Rustling in the Woods
by darkmystress00
Summary: Daryl comes upon something startling in the woods outside of Alexandria.


Daryl stared down the sight of his crossbow. He took a soft breath sighting a deer before pulling the trigger and watching as the bolt hit its target; the soft spot in the lung-heart region. The deer went down and Daryl stood up from his perch, marching over to it. He needed to clean and dress it before he could haul the carcass back to Alexandria. Technically they didn't need the meat, but seeing as how Aaron was out on a recruiting mission with his boyfriend today, Daryl found himself with nothing to do. Well, nothing but think about the one ray of sunshine that was missing from his life.

 _Beth._ Damn, how he missed her. Her laugh, her smile, even her learning how to track and hunt with the crossbow. She had been special. She'd pulled him from a dark place after the prison fell, and he'd watched the senior Greene killed right before his very eyes. She'd picked him up and pulled him from the dark hole he'd fallen into. She'd done it with her words, and her belief and trust in him. So much for that trust. That trust had gotten her kidnapped. She'd trusted him to meet her up the street. She'd believed he'd make it out of that funeral home, and had followed his instructions without hesitation, and it had gotten her kidnapped, and ultimate killed.

Daryl yanked the bolt from the deer, wiping it on his pants before loading it back into the crossbow. He scowled to himself. He wasn't going to think about how it had felt like the sun had gone out when she'd been shot. He wasn't going to acknowledge how it had felt like a huge chunk of himself had been ripped away when she'd slumped and fallen, lifelessly, to the floor. He wasn't going to analyze the dull throbbing ache that had started after he'd picked up her limp body to carry her out of the hospital, nor how it hadn't lessened at all over time (in fact it had only gotten worse.) He definitely wasn't going to admit to the fact that, even now, he struggled to cope with the enveloping agony that swept over him every time he woke, and rarely left (even in his dreams.) He was trying to move on, trying to cope, because that was what she would have wanted for him.

She wouldn't have wanted him to go back. She would want him to keep on getting better, and being good, rather than back-sliding to where he'd been before the moonshine shack, before the fire, before _'oh…'_

As Daryl bent to start skinning and dressing the deer, he heard twigs snapping and underbrush rustling. He stilled, waiting and listening. Nothing. As he moved to begin again the same rustling started and without thinking, Daryl abandoned the deer and scooped up his crossbow. He moved deliberately towards where the sounds were coming from, following as snaps and rustling led him further and further away from where he'd started. He was hunting something, but for once in his life, he couldn't tell what. On quiet feet, Daryl changed direction, hoping to cut off what ever prey he was following. He moved quickly around, dodging lose debris and branches lest he give himself away.

With a quick side step, Daryl emerged into a small (really small) clearing, crossbow up and ready to take the shot. He stared down his sight at the person in front of him, and his eyes widened. His eyes took in mused blonde hair that he remembered being longer, hard blue eyes that he remembered being softer, a soiled yellow shirt. His crossbow dipped as his eyes focused on the girl in front of him, staring him down the arrow of her own bow (a compound bow) until she started (as if seeing him for the first time). They stayed like that, weapons dipped down towards the ground, eyes glued to one another like they'd never thought they'd see each other again. Truthfully neither one of them had ever expected see the other again.

"Beth." He breathed, but it was enough to jerk her out of whatever trance she had been in. Wordlessly, she dropped her weapon, stepping over them without a care. Her hands came up, fingers tangling in the front of his vest, as she stood up on tip toes. Her lips pressed against his and his mind went blank. She pulled back to look at him in wonder a small smile gracing her lips. "I thought…" he couldn't even complete the sentence burning on the tip of his tongue.

"I know." Her soft voice, heaven to his ears, floated around him. "They found me, in that trunk. They found me and fixed me up. As soon as I was ready I left. I went to Richmond but…" She trailed off and he knew why. There wasn't much left of Richmond. "I ran into a guy who told me about this place, Alexandria." She took a steadying breath (still, thankfully, not letting go of him.) "After Richmond…I came here." He couldn't stop the swell of pride that filled him. She was so smart and resilient. "Are the others?"

"Fine. They're all fine." He rumbled, his first real sentence to her. His head was still foggy and floating, unable to process that Beth Greene was alive and standing right in front of him, and that she'd just kissed him. She smiled up at him and took a small step back, and then another, until she released him completely. "We need ta get you inside. The others deserve…" She nodded at him, stooping to pick up her bow. It reminded him of the deer carcass he'd left behind. To hell with it. As she swung her bow over her shoulder he felt her eyes on him, staring at him. He fidgeted under her gaze. "What?"

"You're wearing my knife." She smiled. "Take it off." He blinked, trying to process her words. She motioned to the knife on his belt (her knife which he never took off ever.)

"So what if I am?" He challenged, a small smile on his lips as her eyes narrowed playfully.

"You heard me. Take. It. Off." She held her hand out. "You gotta ask before you just claim someone's stuff." She grinned up at him and he could help the bloom of heat that filled him and made the tips of his ears burn.

"Didn't claim." He moved to unhook the knife before delicately setting it in her palm. "Was just holdin' on to it, until you could come get it."


End file.
